


36 Questions to Fall in Love

by Fangirlshrewt97



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychology, Science Experiments, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-19 07:52:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9428294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlshrewt97/pseuds/Fangirlshrewt97
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov are two strangers who are about to meet and fall in love but neither knows it yet. When they both sign up for a psychology study to earn credits for their class, neither realizes how much their lives are going to change.“PARTICIPANTS NEEDED FOR PSYCHOLOGY EXPERIMENT ON INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIP DEVELOPMENT.DURATION OF STUDY: 2 45-MINUTE SESSIONS.  BETWEEN OCTOBER 12-26. CREDITS GRANTED: 6.PARTICIPANTS: ANY STUDENT OF ISU UNIVERSITY. PREFERENCE GIVEN FOR PSYCHOLOGY 100 STUDENTS."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dearest Reader,  
> Hi! So this is a different kind of fic than what I've written before, so bear with me as I experiment a little. As usual the work is my own but the characters are Kubo-sensei's. The work is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.  
> I am currently back at college, so I don't know how regularly I'll be able to update, but I am aiming for weekly updates. I am guessing this will be around 6-7 chapter but this is still being written so I don't know for sure.  
> Your comments and kudos give me life and reason to continue writing so please let me know what you think, as well as any constructive criticism you may have. Let me know if you have a favorite part or if there is something you find odd or OOC too.  
> Without further ado,  
> Enjoy!

Dear ISU Psychology 100 students,

Here is a study you can participate in to earn your credit for study participation this semester.

Mr. Hisashi Mooroka

Psychology Department Assistant

 

“PARTICIPANTS NEEDED FOR PSYCHOLOGY EXPERIMENT ON INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIP DEVELOPMENT.

DURATION OF STUDY: 2 45-MINUTE SESSIONS.  BETWEEN OCTOBER 12-26. CREDITS GRANTED: 6.

PARTICIPANTS: ANY STUDENT OF ISU UNIVERSITY. PREFERENCE GIVEN FOR PSYCHOLOGY 100 STUDENTS.

FOR MORE INFORMATION, PLEASE CONTACT CELESTINO CIALDINI AT (202)-555-0114 OR AT [ CIALDINIC@ISU.EDU ](mailto:CIALDINIC@ISU.EDU).

TO SIGN UP, FILL IN YOUR NAME AND EMAIL ADDRESS IN THE SPACE PROVIDED BELOW TO RECEIVE THE SIGNUP FORM.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR INTEREST.”

****

Yuuri returned from his ballroom dancing class utterly exhausted, collapsing into the apartment’s sofa as he lacked the energy to even make it to his bedroom. From the quiet of the apartment, Yuuri guessed that his two roommates were currently still not back. Grateful for the momentary privacy, Yuuri closed his eyes, trying to relax after the stressful day, doing his best to not think about his sore muscles, Professor Okukawa had really pushed them to their limits today, or the physics exam he had on Friday that he hadn’t started studying for. Just as he was starting to doze off, his phone rang, making him curse the caller, but seeing Phichit’s profile picture pull up, the Japanese man sighed and answered the call.

“Moshi Moshi Phichit, what is it?”

“Oh sorry Yuuri, did I wake you? I am so sorry but I just realized that I forgot my swipe up at the apartment. Would you mind bringing it down? It should be on my desk. I am so sorry.” The Thai boy rushed out. He knew how tired Yuuri was when he got back from his dance classes, but he needed his swipe to access the computer building, and the college apartment building, so he didn’t have another option. At this time in the evening, few people came in or out of the building, and Phichit couldn’t chance it because he was meeting with his group to study for a calculus test he had the next day.

Yuuri sighed but pushed himself up “Hai, don’t worry. Hold on I’ll be right down with it.”

“Thank you Yuuri! You are the absolute best!” rang the voice from the phone before the call was cut.

Thankfully the card was exactly where its owner had said it would be, the hamster lanyard making it stand out over the mess of papers on the desk. Picking it out, Yuuri headed downstairs and handed the swipe to his roommate outside. Phichit hugged him before leaving, promising to make it up to Yuuri with food later. Yuuri returned to the apartment, walking the three sets of flights slowly as to not aggravate his muscles more.

His sleep disrupted, Yuuri decided to eat something but lacking the energy to cook anything just heated the store-bought ramen. He took it to the sofa, in front of their small TV, a cheap flat-screen the three had chipped in to buy during an electronics sale. He channel-surfed for a while but nothing caught his eye so he decided to watch something on his laptop instead. He opened Crunchyroll and resumed his episode of Detective Conan, his brain too drained to watch anything more challenging. The end credits of the episode rolled as Yuuri finished his dinner, the Japanese skipping these to the next episode’s preview before closing his laptop.

He washed up his dishes and went to his room, pulling out his notes and blank flashcards to study for physics. He steadily studied for an hour, stopping when the letters and numbers started to blur into one another. Yuuri pushed the notes away and retrieved his laptop, opening his email to see if he had any new notification. He had the usual messages of summer internships and invites to different school performances. There was also an email from the Psychology Department Assistant, Mr. Morooka, a message about a study for credits for his psych class. Reading over the short blurb, Yuuri checked his calendar, and seeing it look kind of free, clicked the link to sign up.

Between classes, his job as a dance assistant, and dance competitions, Yuuri had little free time. He had already completed two 2-credit study and his class said he needed at least 10. With this study, he’d hopefully be done and not lose out on the easy points. He liked the class and the material was fairly easy even if there was a lot of it, but Yuuri preferred the more traditional sciences to psychology, finding it to be too ambiguous at times. Filling in the quick questionnaire with his name, year, and class section, Yuuri noted down the times that appeared on the screen, setting up a notification in his phone calendar as well.

He heard the door open and close softly, two sets of footsteps indicating the return of his roommate Guang-Hong and most probably his boyfriend, Leo de la Iglesia. Yuuri liked Guang-Hong, the quiet Chinese boy was clean and mostly kept to himself, an introvert like Yuuri. He also disliked using SNS too much, claiming it was too distracting and the reason he got bad grades. Phichit tried to get him to see otherwise but Guang-Hong would not be persuaded.

The three had become friends when they met each other at the international student preorientation their school had had, an opportunity for international kids to come a few days earlier into the country and transition better. Out of the three, Phichit was the best English speaker, and Yuuri the best writer, but they bonded over their love of ice skating and homesickness. Phichit was the only student from Thailand, and while there were other Japanese and Chinese students, Yuuri and Guang-Hong tried to interact with others as well. What was the point of studying in another country if you are just going to hang out with people who are from your country?

Although they had assigned roommates for the first year, they decided to rent an apartment together the next year, each having different issues with their roommates. The arrangement worked quite nicely, all three completing each other’s style. It was only on Sundays that the three were in the apartment at the same time. During the weekdays, Phichit was the first to leave, having computer science and photography classes in the morning and afternoon, usually coming back in the evening to cook dinner. Yuuri planned his science classes in the afternoon as much as possible because dance classes always fell in the evening and he needed the break to recover, usually coming home late and collapsing in bed. Guang-Hong was an art and criminology major, a combination that made Yuuri laugh because the Chinese boy was so small and cuddly as a teddy bear. But Guang-Hong was insistent on trying to go into police work, saying that he wanted to help people as much as he could.

Yuuri got up and stretched, bending his body to hold his toes for 20 second before releasing and standing up slowly. He opened the door to his bedroom and walked to the kitchen, empty water bottle in hand. He found Guang-Hong and (as suspected) Leo in the kitchen, the Mexican-American leaning against the smaller boy’s back. Amused, Yuuri cleared his throat, chuckling when they sprang apart.

“Sorry guys, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Yuuri! I didn’t realize you were back, I was going to make some soup, do you want some?” Guang-Hong squeaked out.

Yuuri shook his head, heading for the fridge while uncapping his bottle “No thank you. I already had some food and I think I am getting a migraine so I might turn in early. Just wanted some water and heard you guys come in. Hi Leo.” The Japanese man added as he tipped the bottle towards the American. Leo grinned, giving a small wave in response.

“Hey Yuuri, classes getting to you? You look beat.”

“Not really, it’s my whole schedule in general, I need to learn to time stuff better. But oh well, halfway through at least. How’re your classes coming?”

“Good they are all in the Music department so I got lucky. I actually have a solo in orchestra this semester, which is cool.”

“Oh wow, congrats! That sounds like a bigger deal than you are making it sound like.”

“It is Yuuri! Only a handful of people get solos every semester, and they are usually all the seniors, so it’s a big deal.” Guang-Hong jumped in before Leo could dismiss it.

Leo blushed at his boyfriend’s defense, feeling those words in his heart. Yuuri just smiled, he found the two of them to be perfect for each other.

“How about your band? I remember you saying you were part of one?” Yuuri asked. Leo groaned, surprising the Japanese with his reaction. “Not well then?”

“It’s not that, it’s just, ok so I’m the guitarist right? Well our lead singer is JJ Leroy? He likes to call himself King JJ and is saying we should rename the band after him as he is the lead singer.”

“He … doesn’t sound nice.”

“Maybe I am exaggerating it a bit, he just sometimes gets on my nerves. One day he will be a nice guy and drag us to volunteer at shelters, and the next he will be this egotistical d-bag.”

“Can’t you … replace him? Or like get a new singer?”

“Not really. JJ is a great singer, it just gets to his head real quick. He also has connections in the industry because he comes from a family of musicians? And most of the time we can just ignore him, but you know those days when you hate the world? Trust me when I tell you that that feeling and a pretentious rich whiteboy do not mix well.”

Yuuri winced in sympathy while Guang-Hong cooed and rubbed a hand over Leo’s back.

“I am sorry you have to put up with that, that is difficult.”

“Eh, whatever. Anyways, you should come to our concert though. We are having it at the bar by the ice rink? Do you know that one?”

“Um… isn’t it … Oh I know it… Crispino’s?”

“Yeah, it’s owned by the uncle of our drummer, Michele Crispino? So do you think you could make it? We aren’t expecting a big crowd.”

Yuuri pursed his lips, trying to recall his schedule. “I don’t want to make promises Leo, you know how erratic my schedule can be, especially if Okukawa decides to drag me to another competition. But if I have time, I’ll try to swing by for at least a little bit ok?”

“That sounds perfect Yuuri, thanks dude.”

“Sure. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I am going to cram a little more before heading to bed. Good night both of you, enjoy dinner!” Yuuri told the couple as he walked out of the kitchen.

“Good night Yuuri!” both boys responded as the Japanese retreated to his room.

Yuuri did as he told, making a few more notecards and reading over a couple of lectures worth of notes until he felt a jackhammer in his brain. He put all the books he’d need for the next day in his bag, setting out clothes in his chair before stripping down to his boxers and collapsing on the bed. He removed his glasses, put his phone to charge and set the alarm on his clock, and swallowed his meds before knocking out.

 

****

 

Viktor Nikiforov was both on top of the world and at the bottom of a well currently, a disconcerting feeling that was unfortunately becoming all too familiar. He slowly got up off the ice, he had been distracted by thoughts of his beloved poodle Makkachin, and crashed into the barrier. His coach, Yakov Feltsman, was yelling at him from the other side, telling him to get his head out of the clouds and return to his practice, actually paying attention to where he was going.

You see, Victor was a figure skater from Russia who was currently studying his final year at ISU in the US. He was being called one of the best Russian figure skaters of all time because of how he was blazing through gold medals and winning competitions, in fact he had recently won his third consecutive Grand Prix gold. He had been stubborn with Yakov about university because he had seen one of his seniors at the peak of his career go out because of a bad fracture. The man had sold his soul to the sport and when he suddenly could never skate competitively again, had been crushed and lost, not really knowing a life outside of skating.

Don’t get him wrong, Victor loved to skate and would have happily dedicated his life to skating, in fact he had, foregoing formal school for homeschooling and hanging out with people his age for practice at the rink 10 hours a day. He had stretched, pulled, bruised and bent his body backwards for the sport, he couldn’t remember the last time his feet didn’t have blisters. But he did not want to have that lost look on his eyes, he loved the sport too much to grow resentful of it, like that senior, he’d come in the rink but Viktor could feel his jealousy oozing out of him.

He practiced a few jumps, and when Yakov called out to him, he got into his position and skated his short program, letting the music take over his body. After running through the program a couple more times, Yakov told him to get off the ice, something the younger Russian was glad for. He went through the motions of taking a shower and cleaning up, changing and exiting the rink in under 20 minutes. He walked the short distance to his apartment, taking his time to give his feet a break after the hard practice.

Makkachin greeted him at the door as usual, jumping on Viktor and knocking him against the door. Viktor laughed, running his hands through his fur before digging his face into the top of the poodle’s head. The two stayed against the door until Viktor felt all his stress go away, getting up and removing his jacket and shoes. He turned on the main lights, illuminating the small apartment with its sharp angles and modern minimalistic feel. He pulled out the leftover borscht that he’d cooked when Yuri, his junior rinkmate, had visited him that weekend.

Pouring more dog food for Makkachin, Viktor turned on his TV, pulling up his latest episode of Parks and Rec. He liked the light comedy playing in the background because it provided the best kind of background noise while also having an easy plot to follow. Once the dish was warmed up in the microwave he sat on the couch and watched the episode as he scrolled through his Instagram, liking the photos of his old rinkmates and a couple of the friends he’d made here.

Viktor allowed himself that hour to relax and decompress after the day before getting to work on his school stuff, he had a 2 pages out of 10 for history and it was due in two days. Thankfully he had already bookmarked his necessary citations, which he spent the next two hours reading through as he typed the paper in his laptop.

It was close to 11 by the time he resurfaced but at least he had completed 6 more pages, and only his conclusion left, battery at 3%. Rubbing his eyes, he blinked as he saw how dark it had gotten outside. At his feet, his poodle was proving to be a nice heating pad as she dozed peacefully. Stretching his arms before rolling his shoulders, Viktor shifted out of his old position into a more comfortable one.

Viktor opened his student account website, looking through the different activities and lectures happening on campus and noting down a few interesting ones. Lastly he checked his email and found one from the secretary of the psychology department. Viktor was not the best at the sciences, not having the patience to wait for long periods of time for reactions to happen or to observe behavior. University policy said he needed to take at least two science courses though, and he had heard the psych teachers were all good, plus they made the classes fun and interesting. So far they had been right, and Victor had had a fun time participating in all those studies. He had already gotten 8 out of his 10 credits, but his professor had said that he could do more than the required ten because the studies were being conducted professionally and the more participants the better. While the provided blurb wasn’t the best at explaining what was happening, Viktor had heard that Professor Celestino or ‘Ciao Ciao’ as he was affectionately called by his students, was one of the best teachers in the whole university.

Looking at the dates of the study as well as his own calendar, he thought he’d able to squeeze them in, and the researchers always said that he could back out whenever if needed. That decided, he signed up for the study and wrote it in his planner. Viktor knew he was an airhead and forgot things easily, but determined to do well in school as in all other aspects of his life. Yuri had finally gotten fed up with Viktor forgetting another one of his promises and gotten him a planner for this birthday. Best birthday present ever honestly, because it had saved his grades multiple times when Viktor got in the middle of a really good routine and he’d practice it so much he’d ignore everything else.

Once the memo was written, Viktor prepared for bed, getting up and sending a now alert Makkachin to his spot in the bed. Viktor put away his laptop and cleaned up a little, straightening out the cushions of the floor. He placed his dishes in the sink to wash in the morning and went to take a shower after plugging his phone in for charging. The warm steam from the water made him even more drowsy, so much so that Viktor almost slipped as he got out of the shower. He struggled to stay awake to dry himself, and barely tugged on underwear before putting on his briefs and entering between his sheets, out like a light.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Victor go through a normal morning for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dearest reader,  
> This fic is going to be a little slow in the beginning but pick up later on, so bear with me through the slow pace. I want to show a regular day for both of them while also giving them a little more depth because these characters are a little different than we see them in the show.   
> Here, Yuuri is a Dance and Physics double major, but for Victor, I can't pin him down, so I have him taking a bunch of things. I am leaning more towards an art field like Studio art or Art history, but if you have any other suggestion, I'd be happy to hear them.   
> Yuuri, Phicht and Guang-Hong are third-years. Victor and Christophe are fourth-years, and Yuri P a first year.   
> If there is anything else that is unclear let me know and I'll address it in the next chapter.   
> As always the characters belong to Kubo-Sensei, this is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.  
> All Russian translations and scripts are from Google Translate, so I apologize if the grammar or wording is incorrect, I don't speak Russian.   
> Enjoy!

The shrill cries of the alarm startled a sleep-deprived Yuuri, who felt like he had closed his eyes only a few seconds before. Groaning the Japanese man rolled from his stomach to his back, wincing when a ray of sunlight fell on his eyes. Covering his eyes with his warm forearm, Yuuri went took a few deep breathes as his brain slowly woke up. He reached for his clock with the other hand, hitting the snooze button and making the room quiet again. 

Beyond the door, Yuuri heard the TV playing, either one of the morning news shows or a Thai soap opera if Phichit was in the mood. Sighing, Yuuri rose slowly, feeling that ache in his muscles magnifying tenfold. The Japanese man ran a hand through his bed hair, trying to smooth down the wild mane and reached for his glasses and phone. Once he put on his glasses and everything came into focus, he shifted to rest against the headboard, pulling the pillow up to cushion his back. He brought a bent knee up, resting his chin on it as he massaged his blistered foot. He unlocked his phone and checked his notifications, reading the emails he’d received overnight and opening the Japanese news app. He then looked at his SNS for a bit before a yawn had him shifting to get out of bed lest he fall asleep again. He finished by responding to the message Mari had left him on the chat app his family used. It was free and allowed them to also make calls, so it was very helpful. Mari had sent through a few pictures of his poodle, Vicchan, who was playing with some of the guests’ kids. 

Yuuri had been sad to leave his family and poodle behind but the scholarship had given him an almost full ride to ISU, and his parents had told him that if he seriously wanted to go into ballet to come. Apparently Professor Okukawa had been one of his mother’s classmates, so she had offered to take care of him. Which she did, Yuuri loved Minako-sensei as he called her, even if she was strict at times she was a world-famous dancer, and had won so many prestigious awards, so Yuuri knew he was lucky to be able to work closely with her. Vicchan had been a gift from his childhood friend Yuuko, who’d said she was sad to see him alone all the time and thought he needed a companion. Growing up, Yuuri was frequently bullied because he did a lot of ‘girly’ activities like dancing and skating sometimes. Being small, he was also an easy target, unlike Takeshi his other friend who was bigger and not afraid to confront the meaner boys. 

Shaking his head, Yuuri smiled as he saw the photos again before he placed the phone down. He shuffled his feet to get to the clothes he had set out last night, and picking up his towel, he exited the bathroom and went to the apartment bathroom. Judging from the steam still present, Phichit had only exited a few minutes ago. Yuuri, after relieving himself, brushed his teeth and took a shower, the water barely warm because a certain Thai roommate had used up all the hot water. He changed his clothes and combed his hair in the bathroom, throwing his pajamas in the laundry hamper. 

One of the selling points of the apartment for the boys had been the fact that their landlady, a sweet old lady from Japan Yuuri had managed to charm was her washing machine and dryer. Though they were old and small, if the boys did a small load every other day, they got all their clothes clean while saving money that would otherwise go into laundry. Mrs. Oka had moved with her husband to the US back in the 70s, and rarely got the chance to go back to her home country. She also had three kids who were all grown and with their own families, but they were in different parts of the country and could not visit often. That couple with the loss of her husband a couple years back, she was lonely. Yuuri had seen her one day at the park he jogged at sometimes and talked with her, soon forming a close relationship where he visited her weekly to have tea. When he had told her about his apartment hunt, she had told him that she was moving to a retirement house soon, so if Yuuri promised to not change the apartment too much, she’d rent it out for them. Thinking of her, Yuuri made a mental note to drop by the home soon, because it was further from campus. The distance meant he had to take a couple of different buses to get there and the weekly trips became monthly ones. 

Yuuri gave himself a once over before deeming himself to look presentable and joined Phichit in the kitchen. The smell of fried bananas was starting to overflow into the rest of the apartment, even with the stove vent on. “Ohayou Phichit, how are you?”

Phichit looked up from the pot and fryer with the bananas, not having noticed the Japanese man’s entrance “Yuuri! Good morning! Do you want some Khanom?” 

Wincing at the thought of that much oil in the morning Yuuri shook his head “No Phichit, I’m ok, I might get some in the evening but for now I think I’ll just have some oatmeal.”

“Ahh, ok. Well I am going to take a few and leave the rest in tinfoil in a container. Help yourself whenever. Are you going to class now?”

Yuuri had moved to get a bowl and the oatmeal from the cupboard beside Phichit hummed in response. “Kind of, Minako-sensei told me that she had a doctor’s appointment today and asked me to lead her morning Intro dance class, so I need to be there in about an hour. I have my physics class right after so I don’t want to spend the majority of the morning hungry.”

“Oh I see. That’s cool though right?”

“Yeah, I’m glad she trusts me enough. Can you move a bit?”

Phichit shifted when he realized he was blocking the stove. Yuuri put the pot he had gotten from the drying rack, pouring two cups of water in it and waiting for it boil. 

“So what about you, how did your study group go?”

“It was fine, I got lucky this time with a group where everyone actually pays attention is class so we were able to help each other. The professor gave us a study guide too, so we just went through the different topics and asked questions about confusing stuff.”

“Is your test today?”

“No, it’s tomorrow, but I had a paper due today that I got done the day before, so now I just need to do the citations for it and submit it.”

“Is this the one about that famous photographer’s biography?” Yuuri asked as the water started to boil, prompting him to drop about ¾ of a cup worth of oatmeal in the pot and stir it.

“Yeah, but it isn’t a biography, we need to write about the style of photography we can identify in their work and what techniques they use.” The Thai man remarked as he softly poked one of the bananas to see if it was done. Satisfied, he lifted the fryer to let the oil drain out and dumped the snacks into a waiting plate and paper towel to drain the last bit of oil. 

“I’m assuming Guang-Hong left?”

“Oh Yuuri, Guang-Hong didn’t just leave, he left with Leo. Our little boy is all grown up.” Phichit exclaimed as he pretended to wipe a tear from his cheek.

Yuuri laughed at his friend’s theatrics, grateful for the happy man. “He is the same age as we are Phichit, how is he our little boy?”

Phichit gasped as if Yuuri had said something outrageous “Yuuri don’t even joke about that. You know exactly why Guang-Hong is our little boy.”

Yuuri just smiled wider, he did know that sometimes the to teased Guang-Hong by saying that he was their little brother. But it was hard not to grow protective over the Chinese student, he had the naive and innocent look about it, and both of his roommates worried that someone would take advantage of him. That was why when they finally got to meet Leo, they had liked the Mexican-American immediately, he was trustworthy and looked at Guang-Hong like he was the most precious thing ever. 

“Hai, Hai, whatever you say Phichit-kun. Aren’t you going to be late to class?”

“Nope, my history class got cancelled! Which is why I thought I’d treat myself with Khanom. My second class starts at the same time as your dance lesson. 

Phichit took one of the Tupperware containers and lined with with two paper towels before depositing the majority of the fried bananas in it. He placed the four leftover on his plate and placed the fryer in the sink, pouring some soap at the bottom of it and turning the water to soak it. 

Yuuri’s own oatmeal was done, so the Japanese grabbed his bowl and poured the oatmeal into it, scraping the last bits that were stuck to the pot with a spoon. He put the pot in the sink as well and grabbed some raisins from the cupboard, sprinkling them on top of his meal. Phichit had moved to sit at the couch and was definitely watching some Thai soap, so Yuuri decided to join in. The Thai man moved to make space for his friend and switched channels out of courtesy, putting on their latest recording of SNL. Yuuri did not understand his friend’s obsession with the show, but humored him and laughed at the appropriate bits. 

They finished the last twenty minutes of the episode and got up to wash their dishes, going faster with both of them. They got their things for the day and left the apartment together, splitting when they reached the campus, with Yuuri heading for the Dance building and Phichit for the History building.

****

Viktor woke up to Makkachin jumping on the space beside his head, sending him scrambling for purchase as he thought he was going to fall. Viktor closed his eyes and groaned at the rude awakening, batting Makkachin’s enthusiastic face away. He reached for the phone to check the time and groaned again when he saw that it was barely daybreak, turning and smushing his face into the pillow. Sighing into the cotton, Viktor forced his body to relax and sleep for a couple more hours.

The next time Viktor woke up, it was to the flute music coming from his phone, an alarm he found got grating really quickly. Rising on his elbows, Viktor snoozed the alarms and glaced at the poodle sleeping deeply beside him. Trying to get his brain to focus, he collapsed onto the bed again, running his hands absentmindedly through his dog’s soft fur. When the alarm rang again after 15 minutes, Viktor shut it off and got out of bed. He headed for the bathroom, brushing his teeth and jumping in the shower. He threw his dirty clothes in the hamper and switched on the vent, opening the door to further release the steam. 

Coming out of the bathroom in just a towel, he noticed how his poodle was absent, but shrugged, the poodle was probably just in the couch. He sat in the bed as he dried his hair, scrolling through his social media and reading the email he had gotten overnight. After scrolling for a good 15 minutes, Viktor got up and went to his closet, pulling out a set of workout clothes for his morning practice. He didn’t have classes until afternoon today so he trained with Yakov in the morning and changed at the rink before heading to class. 

Packing the change of clothes and a small snack for after, Victor grabbed some eggs from the fridge. He put a frying pan on the stove and let it warm up before cracking an egg and making himself an omelette. Once he had his usual 3 omelettes prepared, he put the pan in the sink and moved to the couch, turning on the TV to watch another episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Yuri had given him shit for a month non-stop when he found out Viktor liked to watch cartoons, but Viktor found the story for this one to be so complex, and it really wasn’t just for kids. It was made to be appreciated by all ages, plus it helped with his English. When he first started watching the show in Russia after hearing about it from his niece, he found the episodes in english. Because it was geared towards kids, the language was simpler and easier to follow, unlike most ‘adult’ shows where characters spoke too fast in too many complicated metaphors that got lost in translation. 

The show wasn’t very long, especially with each episode only being 25 minutes, but Viktor had such a hectic schedule, it was actually hard to find time where he could spare 25 minutes and also be awake enough to follow what was happening on screen. He laughed as he watch Sokka get exasperated by the man who didn’t buy into Sokka’s science, and adored watching Aang and Katara’s relationship progress, they were so cute! Finishing the last of his omelettes as the credits rolled, he turned the TV to some music channel and let the music play as he cleaned up and got ready to leave. 

Pouring Makkachin another full dish, he told the poodle to behave and that he would be back in a few hours, he took the dog down to his neighbour, Mr. Williams to take care of. Mr. Williams was a retired school teacher who lived with his son and granddaughter, and while the granddaughter was at school, he was lonely. His son, Danny had actually been the one to ask Viktor if they could make a deal where Makkachin could provide company for the old man while he and his daughter were away. The partnership seemed to be a success because Makkachin loved spending time with the kind grandfather who always passed her more treats.

Viktor picked up his school bag and sports duffle bag before pulling on his team hoodie, a red and white monstrosity that was the warmest jacket Viktor had ever had. The wind was cool as it whizzed through the streets, seeming to flow through him. To warm himself, Viktor burst into a run, maintaining the easy jog until he reached the rink. He warmed up in the boards, bending down to touch his toes, feeling the muscles of his back extend as the burn ran down his thighs. He straightened up as Yakov entered, waving over his coach. 

“Доброе утро Якову (Good morning Yakov)” The Russian greeted as his coach came within hearing distance.

“Витя, приятно видеть вас на самом деле разогревается. Должен ли я идти к врачу, потому что я галлюцинация? (Vitya, good to see you actually warming up. Should I go to the doctor because I'm hallucinating?)” The older man grunted out as he drank from his cup. If Viktor had to guess, he’d say the cup was probably filled with the blackest coffee found on this planet as well as a small splash of vodka. 

“Давай Яков, я был действительно хорошо последние пару недели! (Come on Yakov, I've been really good the last couple of week!)” Viktor let out. 

Yakov just huffed in response before asking brusquely “Готовы ли вы выйти на лед? Как долго я у вас сейчас? (Are you ready to go on the ice? How long do I have you for now?)” 

Victor nodded, bending to put on his skates, lacing them up as he continued the conversation. “Мой класс не в течение еще 3 часов, так что ты у меня в течение следующих 2-х часов. Я вернусь вечером после занятий в течение еще 4 часов. Что вы хотите, чтобы я работать?(My class is not for another 3 hours so you have me for the next 2 hours. I'll come back in the evening after classes for another 4 hours. What do you want me to work on?)”

“Если вы только здесь в течение двух часов в настоящее время, а затем просто перейти ваших прыжков. Мы можем работать на ваших подпрограмм в вечернее время. (If you are only here for two hours now, then just go over your jumps. We can work on your routines in the evening.)”

“Что бы вы сказать, Яков. (Whatever you say Yakov.)” Viktor shot him his best innocent angel smile that Yakov despised, placing the blade guards on the edge of the rink entrance before entering the ice and going for a lap. 

“Что бы я ни сказал мой зад, получить на льду вы наглый сопляк. (Whatever I say my ass, get on the ice you insolent brat.)” Yakov muttered under his breath as he took a sip of his coffee. 

So the two hours went with Yakov grilling Viktor through various jumps as his rink mates slowly filtered in. When his alarm went off at the two hour mark, Viktor exited the rink. Promising Yakov he’d get here on time, he headed for a quick shower before changing into jeans and a henley, throwing on the hoodie for good measure. Just because he was Russian did not mean he could not get cold, although Yuri and Yakov disagreed with him. 

Viktor walked to the bus stop at the corner of the ice rink and waited for the bus, which thankfully was on time. The bus was surprising empty, a couple of teenagers who were undoubtedly skipping school in the back, a stone at the front, a couple of moms holding their sleeping babies. Taking a seat near the front by the window, Viktor plugged in his earphones and listened to music. 

He got off the bus when they reached the campus, checking his phone to see a text message from Christophe, his friend from Switzerland.

[Christophe GiaCOMEtti]: Bonjour Viktor, did you sign up for that psych study that Mr. M emailed us about? 

[Me]: Bonjour Chris, I did see it. I signed up for it. Why did you also sign up?

Pocketing his phone Viktor headed for the Art History classroom. When he arrived, the teacher was still not there but the rest of the students were milling about. Chris was at his usual seat near the window fiddling with his phone. He headed over for his seat next to the blond, making him look up when he slid into the seat next to him. 

“Ah Viktor! Good to see you made it in time. I just texted you.”

Viktor looked at the Swiss man before retrieving his phone from the pocket of the coat he had hung on his chair. 

Indeed like he said there was text notification that read:

[Christophe GiaCOMEtti]: Yes, I was wondering if you had.

“There wasn’t much in the blurb but it looked cool so I signed up for it. Also with the competition season about to start up in full force, I don’t know when I’ll have time otherwise.”

Chris hummed, head resting on his hand as he looked sideways at the Russian “Not that there will be too much competition Ice Prince.’’

Victor smirked, a fan had screamed that nickname after his free skate last year at World’s, and the media had taken to calling him that nickname since. He didn’t really mind, Victor knew he was a bit vain, but it didn’t hurt anyone so who cared. “There is no point to competing if you always win Chris, I want to see my rivals choreograph beautiful routines and skate them, and if they do it to beat me? Well I am going to give it my all. I am not giving up my spot at the top without a fight.”

Before Chris could respond the professor bustled in, hands full of paper and looking frazzled. “Alright class, sorry for the delay, but let’s not waste anymore time! Please take out the article I asked you to read and discuss with your benchmate what you thought about the author’s ideas about the influence of Michelangelo on his contemporary artists and his influence on Italian art.”

Putting their previous conversation on hold, the two friends retrieved said article to discuss it, Victor struck by Chris’s words. Even if he put up a relaxed front about the competition, inside Victor was fretting about having to skate while his fans wanted him to keep surprising them and his rivals wanting nothing more than to see him fail. Shaking his head, Victor tried to focus on the discussion at hand. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dearest Reader,  
> My sincere apologies, I kind of dropped this fic for the last couple weeks. I had a little bit of writer's block but then I participated in Victuuri week (check those out if you want!), and there was just no time in between to write more. It is still an exposition chapter, I promise we start getting into the story next chapter but I wanted to give you guys something.  
> Please let me know what you think in the comments, and kudos are always nice.  
> This is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.  
> Thanks and Enjoy!

Yuuri was running late because his alarm had not gone off, and was hyperventilating because Minako-sensei was going to kill him. He could have sworn he had set an alarm but apparently not. Yuuri, Guang-Hong and Leo had stayed up late watching Skate France where Phichit was competing, the time difference not being kind to them. The Thai had said that he didn’t mind if they watched the rerun in the morning but the three had protested and said they wanted to watch it live. Yuuri couldn’t be mad at the Thai because of Yuuri’s sleep deprived brain forgetting to set the alarm. The Thai had performed beautifully, his short program to a song from his favorite movie, The Skater and the King. At the end of the night he had been in fourth place, but Yuuri knew his friend would pull through tomorrow with his free skate.

Yuuri made it into the dance studio in the nick of time, the students from the early morning class just exiting as he arrived at the door, panting as if he’d run a marathon. Waiting for the students to pass, Yuuri stayed in his position, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to bring his breathing back to normal. When his breaths were back to normal, Yuuri straightened and entered the studio, surprised to see Professor Baranovskaya and a student were still behind. Usually the professor was one of the first out, she also acted as the director of the Detroit ballet company, so she only taught a couple of classes, usually in the early morning before leaving for the theater. 

He had gotten to work with Prima Baranovskaya before, an honor he appreciated fully, because the lady had been the Prima of the Bolshoi ballet, one of the most prestigious ballet groups in the whole world. He had even appeared in a couple of her school productions, in fact his biggest role to date, that of the Prince, from Swan Lake, had been under her. As such, Yuuri held a huge amount of respect for the woman, always looking for more chances to learn from one of the best. 

But this morning, the Prima had stayed behind with a student, and considering that she was looking at him and beckoning him, Yuuri had no idea what to think. 

“ Prima, доброе утро (good morning).”

“Yuuri, I was the one who asked Minako to make you come in early today. I have a request for you.” The stern woman confided as she turned to look at him, though with her high heels, it came off as looming. The Japanese was surprised by this, what could the Prima want from him?

“Ah, of course Prima, I’m happy to help. What do you need?”

“I want you to meet someone.” Professor Baranovskaya said before pointing to the student who had stayed quiet behind her. “That is Otabek Altin, a freshman who is having some difficulties in class. I want you to tutor him. I know that Minako trusts you enough to teach in her place, so I can trust you enough to help him.” 

The Japanese man looked visibly startled for a second, before slightly shaking his head and standing taller, putting on his best profession face. “Prima, thank you for your trust in me, it means more than I can express, but I don’t know what I’ll be able to teach him, what do you need from me?” 

“Nonsense Yuuri, I have seen how you teach and know you have tutored other students before.” 

“Yes, but those were students from high school, and from the community.Also it was never for ballet.”

“Whatever the case, I am not asking you to teach the boy ballet. I will still be his teacher, but he needs some extra practice. I just want you to meet up with him for a couple hours a week and increase his flexibility. The boy has the stamina and build to be a good danseur, but his flexibility and familiarity with ballet is atrocious.”

Yuuri’s eyes darted from side to side as he tried to look for an escape. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to teach the guy, but he was already so booked with his classes and job, Yuuri didn’t know if he could spare the time. But he also didn’t want to say no to the Prima, She was personally requesting him for something. Sighing as he lost the battle, Yuuri pulled out his phone and opened his calendar app.

“I guess I could meet him with him Prima, but I will be honest this semester is kind of insanely busy for me. I am starting my upper-level classes and Minako-sensei is making me work longer too. I don’t want to tell you yes now and then have to pull out halfway through, it wouldn’t be fair to anyone.”

The elder Russian woman tapped the fingers of her right hand against her left elbow from where her hands were crossed, lips pursed as she thought. The Altin boy really needed some help, because while she didn’t actually want to fail the boy she also couldn’t let him continue as he was.  She turned slightly and beckoned the boy forward. Altin had proved to be a good student, always paying attention and trying to listen to all her advice. Yet he was past the age of flexibility, hs body more built for weightlifting and ballroom than the delicate figure ballet required. She had asked him early on to sign up for a different class, and asked again today, but both times the boy had responded against it, saying the he needed to learn ballet. Left with no other choice, Baranovskaya had decided to recruit Katsuki. Out of all the teaching assistants she had seen in her 10 years here, Katsuki was one of the most well-behaved and disciplined, as well as one of the most talented. He had an innate talent for music interpretation, knack for picking up choreography and dance styles quickly and a core body strength that when coupled with his more feminine figure made him suited for practically every dance style she knew.

“Otabek, I want you to meet Yuuri Katsuki, one of the Dance Department’s TAs. I have asked him if he could help you with some of your issues such as your flexibility to help you keep up in class. I want you to meet with him a few hours a week to practice because if you really want to learn ballet, you need to practice outside of class.”

As the Prima had talked, Yuuri took the chance to look over his potential student. The boy was only a couple of centimeters shorter than him, but had a serious look on his face, and determination in every line of his body. He had soft-looking black hair with an undercut, an impressive broad chest and shoulders, and bulging biceps. A couple lines peeking out under his shirt sleeve gave hint to a tattoo, and the studs in his ears glinted with the sunlight. To summarize, he looked nothing like a ballet dancer. Yuuri had coached worse though, and at least this boy seemed to care, which was so much better than many of Yuuri’s past students. When the Prima stopped speaking, Yuuri snapped out of his reverie and payed attention. 

The younger boy had an outstretched hand that Yuuri took. “Hello, my name is Otabek Altin, I’m a freshman from Kazakhstan. It is nice to meet you.” 

“Ah, hello, I’m Yuuri Katsuki, a third year from Japan, and hopefully your ballet tutor?”

“I would really like that. Professor Baranovskaya said you are really busy though. She said that maybe I could go to the classes you teach?”

Yuuri blinked at that, pausing in his response. He hadn’t thought of that, but it made sense, his classes mainly consisted of ballroom, but they had advanced enough that his students could of some moves on his own. Also ballroom could help with some aspects of ballet, and this way Yuuri didn’t have to mess up his schedule too much. “Actually that would be perfect. I teach an intro to  ballroom dance here Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 4:30-6:00. You could learn some ballroom and I could also help you with ballet flexibility. Would that work for you?”

Otabek looked at the floor for a second before looking at the junior again, “Yes, that would work. Do you have a class today?” 

Yuuri nodded, “I do. If you could come today, it would be great you could get a feel for the class and if you think it won’t work out, then we can figure something else out.”

The Prima who had stayed quiet during this exchange finally spoke up as she saw students for Minako’s class filter in. “I’m glad you were able to work that out. Otabek, gather your stuff, it is time for the next class.” The boy in question bowed his head before leaving, grabbing his duffel from the corner of the room. Watching him move away, the Prima spoke “Thank you Yuuri. I know that you were surprised but I am happy you chose to teach him. I have a feeling you will really help him.” 

Yuuri blushed, still unused to hearing such praise from the Prima who was usually very reserved with such things. “I am also happy to help you as I can Prima. At least Otabek looks like he is willing to listen to what I have to say. I will try my best with him.” The Japanese said as he bowed to the older dancer. 

Minako had entered then, and seen the exchange, quirking an eyebrow at the Russian. The older woman ignored her, saying goodbye to the Japanese man before leaving, bidding her co-worker a good class. Minako approached her student and whispered in Japanese to the boy who was removing his sneakers and changing into his ballet flats, feet spread in a split. 

“What was that about Yuuri? Is everything ok?”

“Hmm? Oh Minako-sensei, hai, everything is ok, Prima just asked if I could help one of her students who is struggling in class.” 

“Really? Lilia asked for help? That’s unusual. But fine, do your best ok.”

“Of course sensei.”

“Good. If you are done stretching can you start going through the warm up with the students?”

“Sure.” Yuuri said as he moved away. 

With that, Yuuri put the conversations behind him. When Yuuri entered Dance mode or Teacher mode, he made sure to only focus on the dance in front of him. 

 

****

 

Viktor tried to lean back on the couch to relax, but the twinge from his back made him sit up again. Viktor felt like one big body ache, everything from his feet to his back to his ass were sore from practice. Yakov had been particularly sadistic today, making him go through both his short and free program multiple times in between the laps and jump practices. Viktor would not have even had not even had the energy to make the trip back to his apartment if rink mate hadn’t offered to drive him back.

Realistically, Viktor knew the best thing he could for himself was soak in hot water, the heat melting away his sores. But the effort to remove his clothes and turn on the tap seemed to be beyond him. Breathing in sharply, Viktor braced himself for the pain as he quickly laid down on the reclining chair. He couldn’t hold back the whimpers that came from the sharp shooting pains that ran through his back. He tried to breathe evenly, willing his body to relax from where it was tense. It took ten minutes, but finally Viktor was settled comfortably enough to shift to his side, resting his back against the back of the sofa. 

Reaching for the remote, Viktor turned on the TV and pulled up his latest episode from Avatar. He had finally gotten to the second chapter, and had seen it until the where Toph started teaching Earthbending to Aang. There had been a cool scene with Uncle Iroh teaching Zuko about lightning bending but Viktor had had to cut it short to make it to practice on time. Makkachin returned from where he had gone to get his chew toy and settled near Viktor at the bottom of the couch. The Russian could run his fingers through the soft fur as he watched the cartoon adventures of the Airbender. 

It was when he heard the doorbell that Viktor startled awake, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he realized that he had fallen asleep. Turning off the TV, Viktor sat up and stretched his arms above his head. The doorbell had not stopped ringing, which meant that Yuri Plisetsky was on the other side, the only one he knew who was so persistent. He was proven correct when the door revealed a gruntled Russian teenager behind it. 

“What took you so long weirdo? Move, I am hungry and you need to feed me.”

“Yura as much as I love you barging into my home, insulting me and everything I own, then eating all my food, could we please do this another day? I just really want to sleep early today.”

Viktor’s sincere question made the younger man pause, particular the fact that Viktor said please. Most of the time the guy was so self-centered, he thought others should be grateful to be in his presence. Looking him over, he saw that Viktor was indeed more tired than usual, opening the door for once not looking like he stepped out of some godforsaken magazine. The younger man just huffed and went to the kitchen, making the older one sigh. 

“Whatever, you promised that you would help me with this history shit, not that you would remember, why the fuck do I need to learn it anyway? It all already happened, people died, what does it matter now?”

“You need to learn history because you need to look back to make sure not to make those same mistakes again. Also you need it to graduate.” 

“Fuck this bullshit, I am only doing this because my parents said that they would only let me come here to train with the best if I also get a degree. If I’d known I’d need to learn about fucking Lenin and Stalin during the war from a condescending American who always glares at me, I’d rather have stayed in Russia.” Yuri said even as he removed his beat up textbook and half-hearted notes that were more doodles and chicken scratch than anything decipherable. 

“I am sorry your professor is like that, but to be fair, I warned you to drop the guy, he was never nice to me either. Are your other classes going well at least?” Viktor said as he moved about removing some pots and plates, trying to whip up some pasta for simplicity’s sake. Yeah YAkov would probably kill them but right now, Viktor wanted to sleep more than cook, and one bowl of pasta would not destroy his career or Yura’s. 

Yuri grumbled some more, before repeating “They are going fine. The Baranovskaya hag is killing us with this routine because she wants us to perform a piece as an opener for her ‘Swan Lake’ premiere. Intro to bio is basically high school biology with fancier labs and the fashion professor wants us to create a portfolio of 4 outfits due in a month.” 

Viktor hummed, noting how despite Yura’s indifference, he had yet to miss any one of his classes outside of competition time. He was a smart kid, if only he applied himself to things other than ice skating. Once the pasta was boiling, Viktor poured tea for the both of them, bringing the cups to the table where Yura was playing some sort of cat game on his phone. Viktor did not fully understand his borderline obsession with cats, but given the long list of things he could be obsessed with, cats were harmless. Viktor knew the younger boy had a cat back home who he missed more than his parents, it was the one piece of personal history that Yura was happy talking about. 

Setting the tea next to the blond, he went and got his own phone from where had placed it on the coffee table. He saw a reminder for a group project he needed to meet tomorrow after practice, but other than that, his email was thankfully empty. He had quickly realized that email in school meant one of two things (1) he had a meeting to set up with a professor, or (2) he had some assignment due. He also had the random departmental emails and the ‘career’ center emails that flooded his inbox, but those he usually didn’t pay too much attention to. 

He wandered into the kitchen, moving to turn off the stove once he saw the pasta had boiled. He pulled out the tomato sauce from the fridge, along with some basil. It was a simple meal, but it would have to do. Splitting the pasta between the bowls evenly, he added the sauce and basil, putting some shredded cheese into Yura’s. He carried the bowls to the table, placing them on the mats before getting the forks. 

“How are your salchows coming? I know you mastered the quad loop last season, but had a harder time with the salchows.” Viktor said as he blew on the pasta to cool it a little. Yura had placed his phone down and was doing the same to his food, took a bite ad chewed before responding.

“I know how to do quad salchows, I got them in my Junior days, I am just having a hard time making them a part of a combo.” 

Viktor knew the young man had a hard time asking him for help, too prideful to admit he didn’t know everything. Viktor would agree that Yura was probably the biggest ompetition he had in the senior division, the younger man was a quick study, gifted with incredible flexibility, and a concentration and ambition that would take him to the top. The only thing that stood in his way was Viktor himself, which is why he was asked why he helped him. Viktor always laughed it off, saying he wasn’t afraid of competition, but the honest answer was because while Viktor danced for himself, Yura danced for his family, and the older Russian knew that would be what ultimately dethroned him. So he offered tips, seeing how far the young man had come, but more importantly, he made sure to be someone the boy could approach. Because at the end of the day, Yura was still a kid, and he had seen too many things for someone his age, forced to grow up too quickly. 

“Say Yura, you wouldn’t be nervous about the upcoming Skate America would you?”

“Shut up old man! Of course I’m not nervous, why the fuck would I be? It’s not like I am competing against you, hell, the biggest competition there is probably that soul-dead Korean and some up-and-coming Thai. I will cream them both, send them running home in tears. You better watch your back, I am coming for your medal.”

Viktor just chuckled, taking a sip of his tea. “Oh Yura, I was never under any other impression. I believe you have what it takes to go far, but I am not out of my prime yet, I am not going to give up my spot so easily.” And before the younger man could start talking, complaining more likely, he continued “Now, like I said when I opened the door, I am feeling tired. I am going to watch some TV, then work on a paper I have before turning in. You are welcome to stay and watch and work with me, but only if you can be quiet. I can feel the start of a headache and I’d rather not aggravate it with loud noises. So what do you say?”

“Tch, you really are getting old. I am going back to my own room, I don’t want to cramp your style. See you tomorrow geezer.” Yura said as he pushed back the chair, dumping his bowl in the sink. He picked up his bag from where he had dropped it and left, slamming the door as a goodbye. 

“Ah Yura, so young but so much potential, if only you could be nicer.” Viktor said under his breath, picking up his own dishes and cleaning up after them both. Makkachin had finished eating and was probably lying by the window, a spot he favored since he could see all the city lights from there.

He returned to the sofa, lying down slowly, his muscles still sore, but his hunger satisfied, he unpaused the show. Just like that, he slowly felt his eyes getting heavier and before he could stop it, he fell asleep to the sounds of Zuko storming out on his Uncle. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to talk with me, check out my tumblr: fangirlshrewt97.tumblr.com


End file.
